In 1933, when my dad was the local clergyman in a fishing village in Green Bay, he was told about "Uncle Sol," a man who had "died" ten years before. In those days there were no doctors in the area and when someone died the locals waited three days then buried the body. The funeral procession was on the way to the cemetery. As they approached the fence, one of the pallbearers stumbled, and the casket hit the fence post. Immediately, a knocking noise was heard from the inside. They laid the casket on the ground, and opened it - sure enough, Uncle Sol was alive! So they helped him out and they all went home. Ten years later, when my dad was there, Uncle Sol really died, and my dad was responsible for the funeral. As they approached the cemetery gate, the widow turned to the pallbearers, and said: "Now boys, don't hit the gate post this time!" - Orville Cole Dartmouth, NS